The Headmistress's Office
by Canbya
Summary: Post VDT: The Headmistress calls Lucy to her office for a short chat.


"Do come in Lucy," the Headmistress called to the girl standing lonely in the doorway. The child walked into the room. Bemused the Headmistress noticed that the girl walked with a grace and pride unusual in young children. Furthermore, unlike many of the other pupils the Headmistress had the dubious pleasure of overseeing, this child seemed neither anxious nor fearful in the Head Study. "Please take a seat."

Briefly the Headmistress studied the child across from her. This child's eyes would easily distract potential suitors from her passable beauty when she grew older. They held tempered mischief borne of an unyielding, inexhaustible spirit balanced by brutal unthinkable experiences. They revealed an intelligent person who knew how to enjoy life's simple pleasures with purest joy. It was odd and disconcerting to see these eyes framed by a face so young. But not unbelievable. The war left its mark on most everyone. Lucy was from London, perhaps she had not been among the first evacuated. Perhaps she was one of the many witness to the bloody Blitz – mused the Headmistress.

"You wished to see me," said Lucy. Her tone was far more polite and refined than one would expect of an eleven year old girl. She sat in the stiff-backed chair with unwarranted grace and dignity. She even had the audacity to look at ease in a chair designed to make pupils uncomfortable and discourage staff members from lingering too long.

"Yes," said the Headmistress remembering her purpose for summoning the child. She did not possess a penchant for trouble. Nor did she seem to be struggling academically. Actually, she, showed aptitude in nearly all her lessons, exceptions being History and Geography. Mrs. Wright complained that her English compositions were archaic but the Headmistress knew that the older lady was impressed by the girl's use of artful expressions and extensive vocabulary. No, she a near star pupil. The Headmistress's sole concern was much greater in significance, and therefore more difficult to correct. Lucy was an outcast. "Many of the staff members have noticed that you seem to be withdrawn from your classmates. Is everything alright at home?"

"Everything is fine at home," said Lucy, though she paused slightly before saying home.

"And your family? Do you miss them?"

"I do regret being parted from Peter, Susan, and Edmund. But it is hardly the first time circumstances have decreed it so. At least this time, I know them to be safe." Odd. Her choice of words were very peculiar. Strange, too, that the child did not mention her parents; only her siblings, whom the Headmistress was familiar with.

In fact Susan also attended this school, but her return from America had been delayed by the continuing war. Word had reached the school the other day that she and her parents had finally found passage back to England. Susan was expected to arrive at school within the week. Susan was another troubled student. Last year, the older girl had been exceptionally gloomy and sorrowful. There had been days when the older girl had been completely unresponsive during lessons. Yet somehow she still managed to outshine her class on the final exams. The Headmistress hoped to avoid a repeat of Susan, who seemed to have no friends. But looking at Lucy, again, the Headmistress found that Lucy seemed the opposite of her sister in both appearance and attitude. It was hard to believe that the two were sisters, except that they both seemed much older than their age suggested they had right to.

"And the other girls? Have they made you feel unwelcome?" continued the Headmistress, determined to find the root of Lucy's problem. After all, children were social creatures. No child sought to be left alone without reason.

"No, not at all," said Lucy. Sensing the Headmistress's need to know more, she continued, "They are rather silly that's all."

"Silly?"

"Well, frankly, yes."

"How so?"

"They are children, in what ways do you think they are silly?" _They are children. They are children._ How peculiar? It was as if Lucy no longer considered herself a child, even though she was the same age as those she accused of being silly. It was then that the Headmistress became convinced that Lucy had been forced to grow up due to the war. Though her file said that she had been evacuated to live in the country with a professor, she must not have escaped the early bombings.

Deciding to draw this brief meeting to an end, the Headmistress concluded, "Lucy, do not try to race to adulthood. Remember that you too are still a child, and enjoy it. Allow yourself to be silly. There will be plenty of time later to be an adult."

"I know, it's just so hard," said Lucy, her posture seemed to deflate and her voice rang of bitter resignation.

"I know its hard to be a child, when circumstances beyond our control have forced us to grow up and take responsibility, but Lucy, I need you to try. The war has marked you in ways that the other girls do not understand. Be thankful that they do not understand. Lucy, you are safe now. Here is a place where you can let go of your responsibility, and let yourself be a child. Let yourself be silly," said the Headmistress, internally cursing the Nazis – monsters to have marked a child in this way.

"That's what Peter said," said Lucy with a small smile.

"Then perhaps you should listen to your brother. Try to make friends with the other girls. You might just be surprised," said the Headmistress. "You are free to go."

Lucy slowly stood up, and walked to the door. Before she left, she turned back to the Headmistress and whispered so slightly that the Headmistress would later wonder if the child had said anything at all, "Thank you."


End file.
